


Peaches

by coinseller



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, I LOVE U CHWIP AAAAAAAA, M/M, Pining, Romance, american schooling system, daehwi is sassy and POWERFUL hes woojins cousin/brain, jihoon is a weird band kid who plays the oboe, panhwi is me giving them the screen time they were robbed of in the beautiful mov, some altered ages, they're both seniors, woojin is a varsity soccer player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coinseller/pseuds/coinseller
Summary: Life’s rough when you’re in love with your best bud.Alternatively: Woojin and Jihoon do the fake baby project together for their high school senior health class, and things go just as horribly as one would expect.





	Peaches

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chwip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwip/gifts).



> https://twitter.com/onguanlinnie/status/1010070184827056129 so this shit happened right in front of me @the sj concert oof jihoon looked straight into my camera and said with his eyes “write the 2park that’s been sitting in ur wips folder, u piece of shit”  
> so here u go, jihoon
> 
> LMAO BUT TBH, this probably would have never left my wips folder if it weren’t for chwip ;u; she is probably the sweetest friend in the entire world and I don’t know how to keep repaying her for the kind things she does for me <33 I DON’T DESERVE U, TRULY /CRIES!! UR SO IMPORTANT TO ME IDK HOW ELSE TO SHOW IT SO HERE!!! I HOPE U ENJOY THIS AAAAAAAA  
> Sorry if I don’t do 2park justice ;A; I TRIED REALLY HARD FOR U THO ;u;  
> honestly, I think I’ll be okay, soompi once told me via personality quiz that woojin and i are on the same wavelength SO HOPEFULLY THAT CARRIES ME LMAOO
> 
> ages for reference (it doesn’t rlly matter tho tbh):  
> 16 – daehwi/guanlin (sophomore)  
> 17 – jinyoung (junior)  
> 18 – jihoon/woojin/jaehwan/daniel (senior)  
> 19 – seongwoo (college)

Woojin thinks that he’s in Hell because his cousin, Daehwi, is present and is sitting on what looks to be his throne _._

 

But the harder Woojin looks, the more he realizes that his throne is just an overly fluffy papasan and that he’s actually just in Daehwi’s bedroom. Which is Not Hell because there are too many fairy lights everywhere and it smells vaguely like Brittany Spear’s newest line of perfume.

 

Woojin hesitantly lays across his cousin’s velvety bed, which he thinks serves more of an aesthetic purpose because it has far too many throw pillows to be considered comfortable and it actually feels like he’s just lying on a table. But seeing as underneath his cute persona, Daehwi’s heart is made of ice and he doesn’t have human feelings, it probably doesn’t bother him as much as it does Woojin.

 

He turns to look at Daehwi who’s crossed his legs and has begun filing his nails. “Talk to me.”

 

Woojin shifts uneasily, “I… uh… don’t really know where to start.”

 

“Start from the beginning,” Daehwi provides.

 

“Like, the _beginning_ beginning?”

 

“No, I meant the beginning as in the end,” Daehwi rolls his eyes. But when Woojin gives him a blank look, Daehwi mutters under his breath, _“dipshit,”_ and sets his nail file down impatiently.

 

On a different day, Woojin probably would have shoved his foot in Daehwi’s face. Or, like, thrown him out the window. But right now, he just feels empty. Too empty to do anything. As if his soul had left him with the coming of his most recent discovery, regarding something very, _very_ important.

 

Daehwi sees this and huffs out a tired sigh. “Paint me a word picture, Woojin,” Daehwi states, scooting closer to his poor, grieving cousin. “When did you first realize you had feelings for him?”

 

Woojin laughs all short and sarcastic. “That’s a loaded question.”

 

“Well, you have about,” Daehwi checks his phone, “thirty minutes to spill it until Guanlin’s basketball practice ends. He’s coming over for dinner and I as much as I enjoy being backbone to your nonexistent love life, I’d much rather be spending time with my boyfriend than playing love-therapist for you.”

 

Woojin sighs.

 

He’s honestly just tired at this point.

 

It’s Sunday, and he _just_ came back from soccer practice too. After falling down on his face a few times and distractedly punting the ball into where the basketball team was doing laps around the field— _which was probably how Daehwi came to find out he was falling apart_ —Woojin wants to go home and sleep his problems off.

 

But thanks to a certain cousin’s boyfriend who probably ratted him out and Woojin’s never-ending string of bad luck, he’s here instead. And now, he has to talk about all the feelings he’s been trying to avoid for the past few months.

 

“When did you find out you were in love with Jihoon?” Daehwi asks a bit more urgently this time.

 

Woojin winces when he hears it.

 

It was hard just thinking about how he was head over heels for his literal Best Friend in the whole wide world, but actually _hearing_ someone say it out loud…

 

“You’re in worse shape than I thought,” Daehwi sighs. “Has it really been _that_ long?”

 

“Probably…” Woojin whimpers like he’s in physical pain.

 

In actuality, Woojin doesn’t really know when he started having feelings for Jihoon.

 

All his life, Jihoon has been his pal. His amigo. His brother in crime. His compadre.

 

Jihoon was the crackers to his cheese, the pasta to his sauce, the guacamole to his tortilla chips, and all that other bros4life sorta stuff.

 

Woojin was Tweedle-dee and Jihoon was Tweedle-dum.

 

That’s how it was supposed to be. Forever.

 

Except (and very unfortunately), Woojin had to go and develop _feelings_.

 

Now everything was _so_ painfully awkward, Woojin doesn’t even think he can scratch his balls in front of Jihoon anymore.

 

 _So yeah_ —he contemplates grimly—Woojin doesn’t really know when this all started because, in all honesty, he’s always liked Jihoon. They were best friends, and of course Woojin loves his best friend.

 

But as time moved on and they grew older, the fine line between friendship-love and romantic-love started blur. And at this point, Woojin isn’t sure how he came to develop said feelings.

 

He sighs tiredly. “Who knows,” Woojin finally answers, running a hand down his face before resting it on his stomach. “I was probably in love with him when we first met in the second grade, and just didn’t realize it until now.”

 

“Attaboy,” Daehwi sarcastically encourages him as he takes a sip from his herbal tea. “Keep going.”

 

“It was like… _we were made for each other,”_ Woojin stresses, and his cousin nods. “I remember seeing him on the playground for the first time… he was picking his nose… and I was rolling in the dirt…”

 

Daehwi spits out his tea and promptly starts hacking. But Woojin doesn’t realize that any of this is going on because he’s already taking a one-way trip down memory lane and there’s no turning back now.

 

He gazes blankly at the ceiling, hands folded across his chest, remembering how he watched that chubby little kid shove his finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. Woojin had introduced himself immediately afterwards, stating that he did that too sometimes. And after a bit more talking, Jihoon recognized him as that boy who always ran and got in trouble for talking too loudly.

 

Then, in short, they clicked. Like two pieces from a puzzle fitting perfectly together.

 

And their friendship from there on out was history.

 

Woojin and Jihoon practically did everything together— _they were inseparable_. And it didn’t really help that they turned out to be next door neighbors since around this time, Jihoon had just moved in from Masan.

 

They grew up together and went to all the same elementary, middle, and high schools. They went on camping trips, basically lived in each other’s houses, celebrated holidays together, even travelled with each other’s families as if they were related—heck, he’s even seen Jihoon naked on multiple occasions.

 

But if Woojin _had_ to put an exact time and date to when he’s pretty sure he fell in love with Jihoon—or, more accurately, when he realized that he’s _been_ in love with Jihoon for the past 10 years of his life—he’d probably date it to the evening of June 17th during the summer vacation leading up to their senior year of high school.

 

Which was actually only about three months back.

 

Jihoon had showed up at his door holding an old-school GameCube and two controllers, with a bag of chips hanging between his teeth.

 

When Woojin took the bag from his mouth so that Jihoon could speak, the other greeted him with a grin, “Sup loser. Look at what my dad found in the attic!”

 

“Is that your old—”

 

 _“GameCube,”_ Jihoon finished for him excitedly, “Yeah, and my original copy of Mario Kart is still inside of it too, look—”

 

Woojin watched as Jihoon juggled around with his stuff and popped open the cover, revealing the game. Just looking at it sent a wave of childhood nostalgia coursing through Woojin’s veins.

 

“Oh shit, _nice.”_

 

“I know right,” The other agreed, sticking his tongue out trying to get the cover to shut again, “So, you ready get your ass kicked or what?”

 

“If anyone’s getting their ass kicked,” Woojin laughed all mighty and proud, “It’s you, princess.”

 

And boy, was Woojin absolutely WRONG.

 

He remembers his downfall clearly: the sun was beginning to set, painting his room a deep reddish-orange hue, and they had been sitting side by side, legs crisscrossed on the carpet for hours; their face only inches away from Woojin’s small, 20” television screen and furiously tapping away at their respective GameCube controllers. Woojin was sweating through his shirt, hands shaking and gripping his controller.

 

He’d already lost to Jihoon twelve times and this time around was the _first_ game that was actually pretty close.

 

Things were getting Heated.

 

It was the final course; Rainbow Road. And Woojin and Jihoon took turns slamming each other off the map, throwing Koopa Shells at their respective karts whenever one would drive ahead of the other. As the finish line finally came into view, Woojin was ahead by a margin and he thought to himself that This Was It.

 

He was finally going to WIN after hours of agony and emotional torment—but apparently, the world decided it was time for his Literal Ass-Beating.

 

It all happened so fast.

 

The first thing that hit Woojin was an explosive, blue Koopa shell that tossed his Bowser off the side of the map and out of first place.

 

The second thing that hit him was Jihoon’s controller when the other threw his hands in the air in victory—causing it to fly out of his grip and smack Woojin straight in the left eye.

 

The third and final thing that hit him was the powerful realization that he liked Jihoon far more than just a friend.

 

When he blearily opened his eyes again, Woojin was greeted with a face full of Jihoon staring worriedly at his eye, only centimeters away.

 

Woojin blinked dumbly at the other for a good minute, and he barely even registered when Jihoon said to him, each breath puffing against Woojin’s lips. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

 

 _‘No,’_ is how Woojin would have replied. But instead, he was just dumbfounded by how pretty Jihoon’s big dark eyes were, and how his baby fat had seemed to magically disappear without Woojin even noticing _._

_Had Jihoon always been this attractive?_ He thought. Which was then followed up with an abrupt and very startled, _WHAT._

 

Woojin didn’t know what was happening to him, but heart was palpitating abnormally in his chest and he felt all light and tingly all over his body—his brain short circuiting like it never had before.

 

Jihoon was practically leaning over him now and Woojin felt his face light on fire like he was about to explode.

 

At some point, Jihoon told him, “Shit dude, I think I gave you a black eye,” with those pretty, cherry red lips.

 

And Woojin automatically replied, “Thank you,” because all his braincells had died and gone to heaven.

 

“… I might have also given you a concussion.”

 

Concussion or not, Woojin had ended their evening quickly by ushering Jihoon out of his house so that he could reflect on his newfound feelings for his Best Friend.

 

He felt like he was suffocating, like someone was squeezing his heart and setting him ablaze; punching the air out of his lungs until he could no longer breathe and the only way he could think of curing himself was by Kissing Jihoon.

 

Woojin laid in bed that night staring up at his ceiling; one eye covered with a ziplock bag of ice and the other peeled wide open in horrified realization that Jihoon _was beyond beautiful_ and that he was In Love.

 

It got so bad that Woojin couldn’t even imagine himself in a situation where he and Jihoon weren’t endgame.

 

But unfortunately for him, Woojin was the very last person in the entire universe to realize this. Apparently, everyone already knew that Jihoon was pretty.

 

Everyone except for him.

 

After wallowing in his unrequited love for days and suffering through a game Woojin liked to call ‘Let’s Not Stare Awkwardly at Jihoon’s Lips for Hours on End,’ he decided to take his problems to their mutual friend—a self-proclaimed ‘love expert’—who was also just their neighbor and senior by one year, Ong Seongwoo.

 

“Everyone goes through a Jihoon phase,” The elder had unhelpfully provided with a far-off look in his eyes. “It’ll be over soon.”

 

And Woojin had dumbly believed him.

 

Turns out, it wasn’t just a phase because every passing day, Woojin found himself falling harder and harder. Like, he started having dreams about the other where they were kissing and going out on cute dates and all that other romantic shit that no person should ever even _think_ about doing with his Best Bro.

 

It took him some time to figure it out, but in the end, Woojin knew that he was fucked.

 

He tells Daehwi all of this from start to finish, and his cousin’s first response is, “You went to Seongwoo-hyung for advice before coming to _me?”_

 

“He seemed reliable at the time,” Woojin weakly defends himself, “He’s got a boyfriend who was also his best friend, so I figured he’d be able to give me some love advice…”

 

Daehwi scoffs, _“Please,_ him _and_ his boyfriend are both idiots. The only reason you have a shot at a love life right now is _because_ of me.”

 

“Then… what should I do?” Woojin asks, finally turning to look at the other who is still sitting in his papasan. “I’m, like… _so in love with him…”_

 

Daehwi rubs his temples, “Just, give me some time to process all of this. I can only handle so much pitiful in one sitting.”

 

Woojin frowns.

 

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and the younger brightens up.

 

“Looks like it’s time for you to leave!” Daehwi claps his hands together.

 

Robotically, he sits up and gets off of Daehwi’s bed, collecting his duffle bag of soccer equipment after. Woojin walks down with his cousin to get the front door, and just as they were expecting, there stands Guanlin.

 

Daehwi’s personality completely 180’s and he warps into the most bubbly, cutesy boy in the entire universe (the side of him that the general public is familiar with. But Woojin can’t be fooled by Daehwi’s shit and is the only person who knows his true colors).

 

Daehwi rises up on his toes to peck the taller boy’s cheek and it’s so soft, it makes Guanlin’s face red.

 

Woojin thinks he’s going to vomit with jealousy.

 

“Ah, hey Woojin-hyung,” Guanlin says choppily and with a heavy accent. He just transferred from Taipei. “I hope your face is okay. I saw you fall a few times and it looked like it hurt, so I told Daehwi to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

“Yeah, thanks… My face is fine,” Woojin mopes.

 

“Then why does it still look like something’s wrong?”

 

“Woojin’s got a crush,” Daehwi explains tiredly. “It’s not looking too good for him right now.”

 

Guanlin shoots him a sympathetic look. He’s such a sweet kid— _oblivious_ , but sweet—unlike the two-faced, manipulative brat he’s dating.

 

“Aigoo, Woojin-hyung… _hwaiting,”_ Guanlin mutters. It’s a half-assed response, but it’s more encouraging than anything that’s left Daehwi’s mouth in the past half hour.

 

Before Woojin leaves, his cousin stops him. “Just a word of advice,” Daehwi says, leaning up against his doorframe, “Don’t do anything stupid. There’s a chance you and Jihoon can be a thing, but try not to go ruining your friendship in the process. I’ll see what I can do, and in the meantime, try to take care of… _all this,”_ He gestures to Woojin with an unimpressed look on his face.

 

As insulting as it is, Woojin feels the tiniest bit consoled to have Daehwi as his wingman. He grins weakly, “Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” Daehwi offers him a comforting smile of his own, before shoving him out onto the front step, “Now get out of my house.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The walk back to his place isn’t that bad. Daehwi and him only live a few blocks apart.

 

It just takes longer than usual because Woojin is dragging his feet the entire way, gazing blankly at everything that remotely reminds him of Jihoon. Like, the potted plant that he passed by a few moments ago. Plants = life and Woojin’s life basically revolves around his massive crush on Jihoon.

 

In short, it takes him twenty minutes longer than it normally does to get home.

 

When he finally arrives at his front door and makes his way upstairs to his bedroom, it’s already sunset and Woojin wants to go to bed because both soccer practice and his aching heart has left him extremely exhausted for the day.

 

But the thing is, there is a small balcony attached to his bedroom. And this said small balcony faces the window to Jihoon’s bedroom, so he can see that the other had just gotten home too. _From marching band practice_. He can tell because Jihoon is wearing his uniform with the shoulder loops, the long gloves, and the tight pants…

 

He looks so cute, Woojin wants to slam his own face through a wall.

 

The sight doesn’t do much for his rapidly dwindling self-confidence because Jihoon is so fucking pretty and somehow, keeps getting prettier and prettier every single day. Whereas Woojin thinks that he peaked at around five years old and from then on, it’s all just been downhill.

 

He doesn’t even realize he’s been zoning out on Jihoon like the pathetic lovesick puppy he is until the other suddenly takes out his stupid oboe and begins to practice.

 

He probably knows that Woojin has just arrived too, because Woojin _hates_ his oboe and plays it randomly just to be annoying _._

 

By around the sixth grade when it was time for them to start taking up extra curriculars, Woojin’s love for running and mud easily transferred over into soccer. However, Jihoon was at a loss since he only liked to play video games and… eat.

 

Jokingly, Woojin suggested, “Well, since you love putting things in your mouth so much, just shove an instrument in there.”

 

And that was when Jihoon decided to pick up the oboe.

 

 _God,_ the oboe is actually the worst sounding instrument Woojin has ever listened to. It sounds so _bad,_ Woojin thinks that Jihoon chose it just to spite him since their rooms stand only 5 feet apart, so he _has_ to listen to him practice…

 

“That’s an instrument?? It sounds like a duck,” Woojin had gagged the first time he heard it. And the problem wasn’t even just that it sounded horrible. But in order to play it, Jihoon also had to puff out his cheeks and press his chin into his neck, affectively making him look like he was constipated and/or about to implode. “That’s disgusting, it’s so _loud_ and _obnoxious_ —”

 

“Just like you,” Jihoon patted his cheek in mock affection.

 

Upon reflecting on this memory, Woojin dimly thinks to himself that if the oboe reminded Jihoon of him, then maybe it wasn’t that bad. He wouldn’t mind getting serenaded with an oboe despite that it was probably the most unsexy instrument man has ever created.

 

Well… Jihoon still looks good playing it.

 

But then again, Jihoon always looks good.

 

The other unexpectedly stops playing and turns to look out his window, catching Woojin in the process.

 

Woojin scrambles to make it look like he was doing something and Not Staring At Jihoon. But he ends up just falling on the floor in panic.

 

“Hey! Woojin!” He hears Jihoon yell out his window, “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Woojin yells back, scrambling to open the sliding door to his balcony so they can talk easier. “I just… uh… there was a bug.”

 

“That’s cool,” Jihoon hums, now leaning out his window to look at him.

 

Things are quiet for a few moments because Jihoon doesn’t have much to say and Woojin is still kinda just… staring at him. _Breathlessly_. Because the wind blows and it ruffles Jihoon’s bangs a little—it’s so fucking mesmerizing.

 

“I’m coming over,” the other finally declares.

 

“Right now? Are you taking the shortcut or—” Woojin doesn’t even have to ask because the other abruptly jumps up onto his window sill, getting ready to launch himself across the 5-foot gap between their bedrooms.

 

_He’s taking the shortcut._

 

Woojin quickly makes space for him to land onto his balcony, but stays close enough to the railing just in case Jihoon falls.

 

When they first started doing this a few years back, Woojin had been really against it for obvious reasons. But Jihoon had always been the type to live on the edge (pun intended), which kinda helped with Woojin breaking out of his shell when they were younger.

 

But he’s still not confident _or_ stupid enough to hurl himself out a window quite yet.

 

Jihoon goes for the jump and his feet land perfectly between the spaces of the railing. While his marching band uniform is cute and all, the gloves, unfortunately, don’t give him a very good grip and Jihoon’s hand slips when he tries to grab onto the bar.

 

Thankfully, Woojin is more than prepared and catches him by the wrist, yanking him back towards the railing so that he can stabilize himself. He probably would have felt more heroic if his heart wasn’t beating one billion miles per hour being this close to Jihoon, the railing being the only thing keeping them apart. Woojin wants to scold Jihoon to be more careful, but at the same time, he also wants to ask if that mole on his upper lip has always been there. So instead he just feels like a piece of shit.

 

Woojin doesn’t get to say anything though because Jihoon laughs, “That was close,” before hoisting himself over the bar and safely onto his balcony.

 

Jihoon lets himself into his bedroom and puts his hands on his hips, looking around momentarily.

 

“So, where’s our baby?” He asks.

 

_Oh. Right._

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Woojin had completely forgotten that they had a baby—or, more specifically, a _fake_ baby.

 

All the seniors at their high school had to take a mandatory semester-long health class, and this was just one of the many obligatory projects they were going to have to complete; specifically to teach students how hard it is to be a parent and prepare them for the future if they ever _do_ decide to have kids.

 

Basically, the assignment required them to partner up with someone else in their class period and take care of a fake robot baby that looked just like an actual baby and _cried_ like an actual baby. For a whole month.

 

Woojin and Jihoon ended up being partners because _bros stick together_ , and all that jazz. Plus, people normally did the project with friends considering how much time they’d have to spend together...

 

“Woojin, _our baby,_ ” Jihoon repeats, “Where is she.”

 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Woojin snaps out of his thoughts, “It’s in my backpack... I think.”

 

Jihoon is silent for a few moments. “You put… our baby in your _backpack?_ ”

 

“Yeah. The carrier wouldn’t fit in my gym locker.”

 

“YOU PUT OUR BABY IN YOUR BACKPACK AND PUT YOUR BACKPACK IN A LOCKER???”

 

“Um…” Woojin pauses carefully, “Yeah?”

 

Out of nowhere, Woojin feels a fist ram straight into his stomach and he doubles over in pain, groaning.

 

“ARE YOU STUPID??” Jihoon shrieks.

 

 _“WHAT,_ IT’S MADE OF PLASTIC—”

 

“GET HER RIGHT NOW”

 

“OKAY, OKAY…”

 

Woojin doesn’t even get what the big problem because the baby hasn’t even been turned on yet, so it won’t cry or poop until Monday. They were given the baby to take over the weekend; something about getting used to having it and carrying it around. So, shoving it into his backpack shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

 

Woojin crawls over to where his bag is laying on the floor and he digs around his cleats and his kneepads. Eventually, he pulls out their baby and wipes off a bit of the mud that’s been smeared onto its face.

 

“I can’t believe this, I leave you with Candy for only FIVE HOURS so I can go to marching band practice! You couldn’t have just left her on the sidelines??”

 

Woojin is quiet before he repeats incredulously, _“… Candy?”_

 

“Our baby. That’s her name,” Jihoon elaborates, “We’re naming her Candy.”

 

He lets out a laugh, “What? Is our daughter a porn star? What kind of name is Candy??”

 

“It’s CUTE,” Jihoon says defensively, holding their baby close to his chest. But when Woojin gives him an amused look, he glares at him, “Do _you_ have a better suggestion?”

 

“I don’t know,” Woojin shrugs, looking at the toy in Jihoon’s arms. “It kinda looks like a Bridget.”

 

 _“Bridget?”_ Jihoon deadpans, brow raised, “That’s not even pretty. You’re tasteless and I can’t believe I’m hypothetically married to you right now.”

 

“At least it’s normal,” Woojin responds, “Anyway, we’re not naming it Candy.”

 

“Firstly, our daughter isn’t an _it,_ she’s a _girl._ Second, her name is Candy and that’s final.”

 

“Choose something else. I’m her dad too you know, I should have a say in this.”

 

“You left her in your backpack, you have no right to name her,” Jihoon snaps at him before cooing at the doll in his hands. It’s soft since its basically their shared child and the thought makes Woojin want to scream.

 

“What about Samantha,” He suggests impassively.

 

Jihoon narrows his eyes, “Mochi.”

 

“Heather.”

 

_“Peach.”_

 

Woojin stares at him, “… Is food really the only thing you think about?”

 

The question earns him a punch to the arm.

 

 _“OW_ — _yeesh_ —Fine, we’ll go with Peach,” He says, rubbing his bicep.

 

Jihoon looks pleased. “Good. Peach it is.”

 

Although Woojin has a bit more homework he needs to get through, and still needs to take a shower and get out of his soccer uniform, he ends up spending the rest of his evening with Jihoon.

 

He doesn’t regret it the tiniest bit.

 

Jihoon lays down on his bed playing with Peach as if it were a real baby— _he’s always had a thing for dolls, Woojin doesn’t understand it nor questions it—_ and Woojin spins around on his desk chair. They talk about classes, video games, how their day was, and then finally, decide on a date to go clothes shopping for their new baby.

 

They make each other laugh, and when they’re not talking, they sit in comfortable silence. But Woojin spends a decent amount of that time staring at Jihoon who is resting on his bed like he belongs there.

 

His heart aches.

 

Ten o’clock comes around a lot faster than he anticipates, and Jihoon decides to go back to his room by climbing up onto Woojin’s balcony railing and jumping across the gap to his window. Woojin watches him clamber up into safety, hoisting himself over the window sill.

 

Once he’s fully inside again, Jihoon pops his head back out and yells, “Give me Peach, I don’t trust you with her anymore.”

 

 _“You want me to throw her??”_ Woojin asks.

 

“It’ll be fine,” Jihoon assures him, holding out his arms, “If I can make this jump, she can too.”

 

See, when Woojin and Jihoon first came up to their teacher and declared themselves partners for the assignment, she had given them a weird look, asking, “Are you sure?”

 

Woojin didn’t really understand the meaning behind that question until he hurls their baby across the five-foot gap between both of their bedrooms.

 

_And he realizes a moment too late that he’s a soccer player for a reason._

 

Unfortunately, instead of flying through Jihoon’s window and into the boy’s waiting arms, Peach slams into the side of Jihoon’s house—somewhere about three feet away from where he was aiming—and the baby goes falling two stories down onto the cement floor.

 

Only when her head pops off does she begin to scream.

 

_“WOOJIN—”_

“OH MY GOD”

_“—OUR BABY”_

 

Jihoon is holding his face in horror while Woojin can’t seem to stop staring at their decapitated child.

 

It takes them a few moments to recover from the shock of it all, but they finally look up at each other at the same time before bolting away from their windows to get to Peach.

 

And it takes them until three o’clock in the morning to fix her via YouTube tutorials. So, they end up sleeping on Woojin’s floor that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Week One as Peach’s fathers goes by a lot better than most would expect.

 

They barely pass the first assignment with a C and it’s not because they dropped their daughter down a two-story building.

 

They were required to go out and buy clothes for their baby to teach them budgeting and responsibility. So Jihoon dresses her a pink onesie that says _‘If you think I’m cute, you should see my Dad’_ , and Woojin buys her a pair of sunglasses and a snapback because he thinks that it's funny.

 

It also covers up the massive crack in her skull.

 

Unfortunately, their teacher doesn’t have a very great sense of humor so she marks them down 10 points (thankfully she doesn’t see the crack). And they lose another 5 points because Peach isn’t a ‘real name’ and Jihoon refused to change it no matter what the teacher said.

 

She then assigned each team in the class a scrapbook, to keep track of what they were doing with their babies per week, and told everyone to fill it up with pictures and descriptions for every passing day.

 

But throughout the week, nothing much really happens since their baby is put on the lowest setting, which meant she’d only cry if handled too roughly and poop maybe, like, once a day.

 

This also meant that not a lot of teamwork was needed quite yet, so the two of them just handed the baby off to whoever wasn’t the busiest.

 

Since Woojin had soccer practice after school almost every single day, and the band only met up about three times a week, Jihoon usually took the evening shift while Woojin carried Peach around during school and classes.

 

But when Jihoon had to go to marching band, he didn’t have anywhere to put her, so Woojin took Peach and left her carrier on the sidelines with the other senior’s baby who was also doing the project; Kim Jaehwan, the captain of the soccer team.

 

He named his baby Baby Gaga.

 

It’s Wednesday when Jaehwan mentions to him during a water break, “Say, Woojin, we should let Baby Gaga and Peach go on a playdate sometime and log it into that stupid scrapbook thing our teacher assigned.  Maybe we can get extra credit or something.”

 

“Did you lose points on the name too?”

 

“… Yeah we did.”

 

“Ha, sounds good,” Woojin replies, “I’ll talk to Jihoon about it later.”

 

“Sweet. Oh, and speaking about Jihoon, heard from a friend you’ve kinda had a thing for him recently.”

 

Woojin cringes.

 

‘Kinda’ was _kind of_ an understatement these days… On top of taking in the baby, the first week was filled with _many_ visits to Daehwi’s house after soccer practice for impromptu ‘therapy’ sessions.

 

Almost every day, Woojin would find himself laying on top of Daehwi’s bed, talking about his feelings for Jihoon for almost an hour until he was booted out.

 

He did it so many times, his aunt, Daehwi’s mom, asked him if something was wrong at home and if he wanted to talk to an adult about it.

 

He assured her that everything was fine.

 

It’s a Thursday when he comes over again, and his cousin provides, “So, I was chatting with a few people around school and honestly, I think you have a shot.”

 

“Really?” Woojin perks up.

 

“Yeah, you’re, like, totally his type,” Daehwi assures him, “Jihoon _loves_ stupid.”

 

Woojin frowns.

 

“That, and I was talking to Guanlin and he said that Jihoon had a thing for David Beckham for a while.”

 

“What does that have to do with me?”

 

“ _He’s_ a soccer player, _you’re_ a soccer player,” Daehwi tells him, rolling his eyes for effect, “Maybe you should consider growing a bit of stubble and doing your hair up like him.”

 

“He’s white, Daehwi. I look nothing like David Beckham.”

 

“True, _ew,_ never mind you’d look disgusting with stubble.”

 

“That’s not what I was—”

 

“—Oh my god, he’s _Hot,”_ Daehwi’s eyes suddenly widen as he enthusiastically scrolls through Google images on his phone, “Yeah, if this is Jihoon’s type, then maybe the only thing you’ve got going for you is the fact that you’re a dumbass. And a soccer player.”

 

Woojin frowns harder.

 

“Jihoon digs that. Good lord, Sir Beckham 6’0 too—pray that you grow to at least ten inches in the next few years, cousin.”

  
It sucks. It really fucking does.

 

The world is truly against him and his potential relationship with Jihoon, yet at the same time and no matter how hard he tries to suppress it, he still can’t get over his Best Friend—the one person he should have never had romantic feelings for—and he’s suffering.

 

It doesn’t help that for this past week, Woojin’s favorite part of the day turned out to be whenever he’d get home, he’d find Jihoon sitting on his balcony with Peach, waiting for him.

 

And it was like this almost every single evening.

 

“You took your sweet time getting back today,” Jihoon yawns to him on Friday, when Woojin unlocks the door to his balcony and lets him into his room.

 

“Sorry, I was at Daehwi’s for a bit,” Woojin replies. It only took longer today because Woojin decided to have a minor breakdown in front of him for, like, twenty minutes and Daehwi had to console Woojin with awkward pats to the back and a cup of hot tea, assuring him that it wasn’t the end of the world if he got caught for staring at Jihoon’s butt.

 

Woojin’s soul was in pieces. Jihoon joked about it afterwards, saying, _“Bro, are you in love with me?”_ and Woojin laughed it off, sweating out a horribly strung together, _“Y-Y-Yeah right, man. Ha Ha. I-In love with you?? Psshh, there was just a bug… D-Dude.”_

 

He still couldn’t look Jihoon in the eye. Or anywhere else for that matter.

 

“You should stop jumping across the balcony when I’m not home,” Woojin clears his throat and tells him.

 

“It’s fine, I can make the jump,” Jihoon assures the other with a smile on his face. “And now, I don’t have to do it holding Peach.”

 

Ever since their _accident_ , they tied a rope between their rooms so that they could glide the carrier across without having to throw her.

 

“Doesn’t make it any safer,” Woojin mumbles.

 

Suddenly, Jihoon appears in his immediate line of vision, and Woojin’s heart practically stops in his chest, all the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Awww,” He coos, patting Woojin’s cheek for good measure, “Woojinnie cares _that_ deeply about me? You’re so gentlemanly and soft, what’s happened to you?”

 

It makes Woojin want to melt into a puddle at his feet and he’s incoherent for the rest of the night.

 

On Sunday, they spend the evening sitting on Woojin’s floor and working on their project together, handing Peach off whenever she’d cry.

 

Neither Woojin or Jihoon are very book smart (which is probably another reason their teacher was reluctant for them to work together). But Jihoon is a bit more creative than Woojin is, so he takes charge of making the scrapbook while Woojin types up their descriptions and response paragraphs.

 

They do a good job, despite that all of the pictures were printed off Jihoon and Woojin’s phones.

 

Although Week One was a bit uneventful, Jihoon manages to make it look fun by shoving a few pictures in from when they went clothes shopping for Peach and got kicked out for playing hide and seek between the racks. He also includes a few pictures from when they’d just lay around and take care of her in their bedrooms. Woojin finds a few from school and his soccer practice too.

 

Embarrassingly enough, Woojin notices that in every group picture that they’ve taken, Woojin is staring at Jihoon’s profile rather than at the camera. But they still look incredibly happy—even Peach whose smile is made of red colored plastic.

 

If Jihoon notices it too, he doesn’t say anything. Which Woojin is thankful for.

 

Jihoon leaves the scrapbook at Woojin’s place that night because Woojin is less likely to forget it. And it’s kind of sad that Woojin can’t stop flipping through it for some reason.

 

After about the fifteenth time he picks it up to look through the only 7 pages worth of content, he slams his face into his desk so hard, his nose actually starts bleeding.

 

“FUCK” Woojin screams in pain.

 

It prompts Jihoon to open his window and yell, “WHAT HAPPENED?? I HEARD A LOUD B—Oh my god, is your face okay?”

 

Woojin slaps his hand over his nose that’s currently gushing blood all over the place. He scrambles out onto his balcony to reply, “YEAH. Yup! Completely fine,” He gives the other a thumbs up, “There was, um… a bug.”

 

Jihoon stares at him, “A… bug?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So you killed it with your face?”

 

Woojin stops to actually think about what he’s said, “… _Yes.”_

 

“Well…” Jihoon pauses contemplatively, “Alright then. Try to do it with your hand next time, okay?” he says, before he closes his window and goes back to sleep.

 

As Woojin walks back into his room, he reflects on his life up until this point and he wonders what he’s done in his past to deserve all of this.

 

He also considers that maybe he needs to get a new go-to answer that doesn’t involve bugs.

 

But it’s just his luck that his brain dies whenever he sees Jihoon, so he figures that no matter what he does, he’s screwed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The second week is Hell.

 

Their _‘Trial Period’_ is deemed Over and Peach is finally set to the highest difficulty—her full, maximum potential Baby Status. Which means she poos and pees like a real baby. She screams like a real baby. Cries like a real baby. And keeps them up all night like a _Real Baby._

 

It’s only after the first day when Woojin realizes how lucky he is that he loves One Person in the whole wide world, and that person is a MAN who cannot bear his children.

 

Honestly, he doesn’t even know how they’re going to get through the next few weeks with this thing. It’s probably the roughest week for most students because the teacher doesn’t even assign any tasks for them to complete this week. _All they have to do is Survive._

 

And by Wednesday, Woojin doesn’t think they’re going to make it.

 

Peach cries _so_ much, Jihoon and Woojin have to practically live together now, and while it does help with the project, it doesn’t really help with Woojin’s ever growing crush on his best friend.

 

He can’t even find the time to go over to Daehwi’s anymore, and he didn’t really know how much he needed his sessions with his cousin until they stopped. Woojin thinks he’s going to go insane.

 

Every day after soccer practice, he’d check his phone only to find that he’s received a (super endearing) picture of Jihoon sporting baggy, sunken in eyes as he holds his phone with one hand and flips off Peach with the other. The caption usually says something like: _‘Woojin, if you don’t come back and take care of this thing in the next ten minutes, I’m eating the fucking baby.’_

 

It makes Woojin laugh, but at the same time, anxious because he’s 90% sure that Jihoon would actually try to eat their plastic baby, so he sprints home from school to take his shift, allowing Jihoon time to sleep or, like, do his homework.

 

It goes on like this for a while until they figure out what Peach wants whenever she screams.

 

But before that, they suffer.

 

“GOD, DOES SHE EVER SHUT. UP.” Woojin yells one midnight as Jihoon lays face-down on his bed.

 

Peach has been crying for the past half hour and Woojin can’t tell if the doll is hungry, or if it needs to be burped, or if it needs to be held differently. Or all three.

 

He cries into his hands, “All she does is SCREAM.”

 

And Jihoon shifts around so that he can say, “She gets that from you,” before slamming his face back onto his pillow.

 

Apparently, everyone else is having it rough because they invite Jaehwan and Daniel over on Thursday so that Baby Gaga and Peach can have their ‘playdate.’ And they look just as horrible.

 

All four boys find themselves sitting around in a circle, eyebags and all; dozing off as they stare at two plastic babies do nothing so that they can take pictures.

 

They end up playing Super Smash Bros. on Jihoon’s Wii U afterwards, and it’s probably the most any of them have felt alive in the past few days.

 

Woojin and Jihoon kick their asses every single round, and on top of that, they all get 3 points extra credit for going ‘above and beyond’ for actually doing something with their babies that week.

 

So yeah. It’s not all bad, and times like these just proves it.

 

Even though their fake baby project and extracurriculars takes up most of their day, Woojin and Jihoon still find time to mess around and talk… eat Hot Cheetos on the floor while watching endless hours of e-sports tournaments. Woojin figures that even if Jihoon won’t ever like him back, that this is okay. He can live like this. In the long run, he’d rather have Jihoon as a friend forever than lose him because of some stupid crush.

 

But there are also times when Woojin’s morals are put to The Test and that very thing happens on Friday night when they’re hanging out in Jihoon’s room, taking care of Peach.

 

They’re both _so_ tired, they almost feel sick. Every time they try to put her down, the plastic baby begins to scream, and Woojin has been holding her for hours now—he literally feels like he’s going to Die.

 

“Go to bed,” Jihoon nudges the back of Woojin’s head with his gross foot from where he’s lying on the floor, “I can take over, you have a big game tomorrow.”

 

And it’s true. His game on Saturday determines whether or not their high school gets to compete in the finals, but Woojin still reasons, “You have to play in the band for the basketball finals tomorrow, though.”

 

“You need the energy more than I do.”

 

“I always have energy,” Woojin replies, “Besides, knowing you, you’d just fall off the bleachers without enough sleep.”

 

“That happened, like, _One Time._ ”

 

“You broke your wrist.”

 

“So??”

 

Woojin snorts.

 

Suddenly, Jihoon’s entire foot is in his face and Peach is pried from his hands, “Go to bed, idiot,” Jihoon says, “Or I’ll knock you out myself.”

 

And it doesn’t take much more until Woojin finds himself laying in Jihoon’s bed with the covers pulled up, encasing himself in sheets that smell exactly like the Love of His Life—boy, he’s in heaven. Woojin thinks he’s going to cry. But alas, he’s too tired to do that, so he falls asleep immediately.

 

That night, he dreams about Jihoon shoving him over in the bed and whispering harshly, “Move your big ass over, Woojin. Holy Shit.”

 

And dream-Woojin unknowingly does so…

 

… but not without throwing an arm around dream-Jihoon’s waist too, because _Why Not?_ It’s a dream. And dream-Jihoon is comfy and smells like strawberries.

 

Unfortunately, when Woojin wakes up in the morning, he finds out that he, in fact, wasn’t dreaming. Because his arm is still around Jihoon’s waist and their heads are on the same pillow.

 

Even though his mouth is wide open and leaking drool onto the small space between them, Woojin’s heart lurches in his chest because Jihoon is so beautiful—he wants to wake up to this sight every single morning.

 

Momentarily, Woojin turns to the sky and thanks whatever deity that allowed him to meet Jihoon and become best friends with him.

 

He doesn’t really know how long it’s been since he woke up, because all of Woojin’s time is spent staring at Jihoon; observing how the morning sun hits the curve of his nose and glitters between his long eyelashes, like one would stare at art. It takes a while before Woojin finds the courage in himself to reach up with his hand and slowly— _carefully_ —try to brush his friend’s fringe away with the tips of his fingers.

 

And he’s _so close too_ , Woojin holds his breath with his heart practically stopping in his chest; as if he made any sudden movement, Jihoon would wake up.

 

But it’s then that their cock-blocking, demon of a baby decides to start screaming and Jihoon shoots up so fast, he collides with Woojin’s palm and gets slapped in the face.

 

“OW, HELLO??” Jihoon yelps, holding his now reddening forehead.

 

“OH MY GOD, JIHOON, I—” Woojin sits up in panic, and he tries to come up with an explanation that doesn’t fall along the lines of; _‘I was trying to softly brush your hair away with my fingers, dude,’_ but he doesn’t know what to say, so his Big Mouth spits out the first thing that comes to his mind, “THERE WAS A BUG—”

 

Jihoon stares at him in silence.

 

And Woojin stares back, except growing increasingly flustered by the second until he’s sweating buckets.

 

“A bug?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Uh… did you get it?”

 

“… _Yes.”_

 

“Okay. Thanks, man.”

 

Woojin lets out a breath.

 

It’s funny though, because Woojin is beyond whipped, but he doesn’t even realize that his arm is still wrapped around Jihoon’s waist until the other slips out of his grasp like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

 

It leaves Woojin shocked and longing, especially when Jihoon pads over to Peach— _their_ fake, plastic baby—with his bedhead and messy pajamas; looking like a domestic daydream come true.

 

_Woojin really fucking wants to kiss him._

 

But he can't, and his suffering doesn’t end there.

 

Later that night, when Woojin is out on the field for his soccer team’s pre-finals match, he spots a figure during halftime, running out towards the field.

 

They’re down by three points and his coach is going on about something important, but Woojin can’t seem to pay attention because that particular figure turns out to be Jihoon in his marching band uniform, sprinting from the gymnasium holding Peach’s carrier with one hand and his stupid oboe in the other.

 

The basketball game must have ended early, and from the sidelines, he sees Jihoon frantically wave around before ripping Peach out of her carrier to force her little doll hand to wave at Woojin too.

 

Woojin is so Fucking Endeared, he literally crumbles to his knees and begins to cry.

 

“What’s wrong with him?” His coach asks in the middle of his pep-talk.

 

He knows that Jaehwan is staring directly at Jihoon too, but he covers his ass, saying, “The heat of the game. It’s finally getting to him.”

 

“Oh, Woojin… Pull yourself together, kiddo, we can still win.”

 

And by the end of it all, they do. With a two-point lead.

 

After the game, Jaehwan comes up to him and offhandedly mentions, “Thank god the marching band performs at the Finals. We need you playing like _that_ again _._ ”

 

But Woojin doesn’t really catch that because Jihoon sprits up to him from the sidelines and punches his shoulder, “CONGRATS, NERD!! Look who’s going to the finals!”

 

Woojin laughs, but doesn’t reply since he can’t do anything but stare dumbly at Jihoon’s matching grin and pretty, twinkling eyes with a Big Smile on his face.

 

He feels that urge to kiss him again. Because he doesn’t really know how else to express how grateful he is that Jihoon can bring out the best in him and that he’s always there to support him.

 

Woojin is blissed out and in love, but their entire walk home, there’s still that ache in his chest that can’t seem to go away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the second week is over, their teacher states that they all should have gotten used to their babies at the highest setting by now, so she assigns them a new task on Week Three: _Family Bonding With Your Baby._

 

Which doesn’t sound too bad, especially since Woojin has been feeling great.

 

Ever since the pre-final game and a few very needed ‘love-therapy’ sessions with Daehwi, Woojin has actually considered _maybe-possibly_ confessing to Jihoon.

 

The entire week, he’s been dropping mixed signals that tells Woojin that he’s _maybe_ interested, and Daehwi has assured him that _‘if you think he’s got a thing for you, then take your chance, idiot, but wait until the right moment.’_

 

And after a good, long, inner pep-talk that takes more than 3 class periods and all of soccer practice, Woojin figures that it’s now or never. So, when he gets home on Thursday, Woojin is ready to spill his feelings and just Go For It.

 

_He’s ready to make Jihoon his boyfriend, no matter the cost._

 

But it’s then that Jihoon appears to front of him from his balcony, and hands him something that shatters Woojin’s hopes and dreams like glass—crushes his heart to pieces like a fist breaking through a wooden door.

 

“This is great, Jihoon,” Woojin replies robotically, voice wavering and still holding the object in his hand, “It’s really… Something—Hey, you know what? I actually forgot something at school, I’ll be back in a sec.”

 

And without even getting to hear Jihoon’s response, Woojin flies out of his house and sprints straight back to Daehwi’s.

 

“What’s wrong??” Daehwi asks when Woojin finds himself in his cousin’s room again.

 

“LOOK AT THIS—” He screams.

 

“It’s… a bracelet, Woojin,” Daehwi replies flatly, taking the object so that he can look at it.

 

“IT’S NOT JUST A BRACELET—”

 

“It’s… a really ugly one?”

 

“IT’S A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET, DAEHWI.”

 

“Oh… _oh no, you poor thing.”_

 

Woojin begins to sob.

 

“This is a whole new level of friend-zoning, I—” Daehwi looks shocked, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. He walks up to Woojin who’s buried his face into his hands, and pats him on the back. “I—I’m so sorry.”

 

“Is it hopeless?” Woojin asks, “S-Should I just give up?”

 

“Why did he give this to you?”

 

Woojin sniffles and croaks out, “Our teacher gave us an assignment, saying some bullshit about how we had to increase our bond with the baby or whatever...”

 

Daehwi nods.

 

“So Jihoon made us friendship bracelets; one for me, one for him, and one for the baby.”

 

“… That’s literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Who does that”

 

“He’s so cute, Daehwi I love him so much.”

 

His cousin sighs and continues to rub circles on his back. “I know you do. You tell me every single day.”

 

“W-What should I do?”

 

“At this point, I don’t really know what to say anymore,” Daehwi tells him, seating them both on the edge of his bed.

 

Woojin stays quiet as Daehwi slings an arm around his shoulder and slips the friendship bracelet back into his hand. It hurts to hold, but no matter what it signifies, Woojin still finds the piece of jewelry endearing.

 

“I mean, you can stay friends forever and leave it like that. Or, you can confess and hope that it works out, but at the cost of potentially ruining your friendship.”

 

Woojin mopes. “I don’t like any of those options.”

 

“Well, let’s be real. Jihoon will still like you even if the feelings aren’t mutual,” Daehwi tries to comfort him, “You guys are best friends, right? Give the guy some credit.”

 

Woojin lets that soak for a bit, before he nods. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

 

“You good? You know what you’re going to do now?”

 

“Yeah, I think so,” He mumbles, “Thanks, Daehwi.”

 

“No problem,” His cousin says, standing up and pulling Woojin along with him, “Now, go back home. You smell like sweat and dirt.”

 

It turns out that Woojin doesn’t really know what he’s doing. And instead, he just lets himself fall harder and harder for Jihoon as the days continue to pass.

 

He wears the friendship bracelet, and it feels like a weight on his arm, tying him down to his inevitable platonic relationship with the other like a brick.

 

It also serves as a reminder for him not to do anything Stupid.

 

On Saturday after soccer practice, they decide to take Peach out to complete the ‘Family Bonding’ exercise that their teacher assigned.

 

And while most students decide to take their baby to places like the park, downtown to the city, or the petting zoo, Woojin and Jihoon take Peach to an arcade.

 

There, Woojin finds that he’s never been in love with anyone or anything This Badly in his life.

 

When they get back home to put their scrapbook together, they fill the pages with pictures of Woojin playing DDR with Peach strapped to his stomach, Jihoon playing a NASCAR game with her in the backseat, and all three of them sharing pizza and sprites.

 

It’s the most fun Woojin’s had in years, which is saying a lot because he and Jihoon always manage to have fun wherever they go. And despite that he was still a bit tired from soccer practice, Woojin still has the energy to enjoy everything at the arcade to its fullest (because of one person).

 

As Jihoon sleeps in bed that night and Peach sleeps atop the many stuffed animals they won for her with their prize-tickets, Woojin takes out his phone and replays a particular video that makes his heart warm with Love.

 

“PEACH IS ABOUT TO GET HER FIRST KILL, ARE YOU RECORDING WOOJIN,” Jihoon yells, holding their baby in one hand and positioning a plastic machine gun into her little baby doll arms.

 

Off camera, Woojin shoves a few tokens into the zombie shooter game and screams back, “LIGHT ‘EM UP” And on cue, Jihoon slams his finger on the trigger for her, and the audio is overtaken with the sound of machine gun fire and their combined cackling.

 

In the corner of the screen, a person passes by and gives them both horrified looks. But Woojin doesn’t even notice him because at the same time—at that _very_ moment—Jihoon turns to Woojin and gives him the biggest, most stunning smile he has ever seen. _And it’s all for him._

 

Even from just watching Jihoon through a screen, Woojin realizes that he still has the power to make his heart stop. And this particular video helps numb the pain from when they receive an F on the assignment.

 

But Woojin finds that he barely cares because hey, they had fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s their fourth and final week with Peach, and regrettably, Woojin doesn’t really remember a lot of it because his soccer coach works him to the ground in preparation for the finals on Saturday.

 

Every afternoon, he comes home exhausted and sore, and he feels bad because Jihoon has been doing a lot of the project without him, even though the other assures him it’s alright.

 

On Friday, their coach finally gives them a day off to destress before the big game. So, he and Jihoon spend the evening after school getting ice cream with Peach so they can add it into their scrapbook as their final ‘family outing’ or whatever— _they just need extra credit very Badly._

 

“As horrible it was taking care of her,” Jihoon tells him as they’re sitting on a play structure in the middle of their neighborhood, “I’m going to miss this little guy.”

 

Woojin thinks that he’s going to miss her too. Not because he actually cares about Peach, but because he’s not going to have a reason to hang out and sleep over at Jihoon’s every single day now. “Yeah…” He replies distractedly.

 

It’s quiet between the two of them, before Jihoon asks him, “What’s up?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re kind of quiet… Are you nervous for the game tomorrow?”

 

“Not really,” Woojin hums, pausing for a long moment, feeling the wind blow and taking in how perfect he feels sitting here with Jihoon like they’re the only two people in the world, “Just comfortable...”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“… and tired too, I guess.”

 

“You’re tired?” Jihoon repeats quietly, before shuffling around and patting his lap, “You can lay down if you want.”

 

Woojin thinks that he’s _really out of it._ He stares at Jihoon incredulously, wondering if he actually heard him say that right or if he was just imagining things in his exhausted state.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon snorts, “Don’t look at me like that, I’m told I have very comfortable thighs.”

 

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing,” Woojin feels his heartbeat kick into overdrive and his mouth suddenly feels very dry. “Yeah. S-Sure. I’ll lay down, if you insist. T-Thanks, man. I-I owe you one.”

 

As he shifts into a comfortable position and lays his head back onto Jihoon’s lap, he takes a moment to thank God for his tanned complexion because his face is on Fire and turning hotter as the seconds pass.

 

He doesn’t even know how he manages to fall asleep like this, but he does.

 

And honestly speaking, it’s probably the most comfortable rest he’s had in a long while…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s the night of the final game, and things aren’t looking too good for Woojin and his team.

 

The score has settled at five to four with the opposing team in the lead, and at this point, the crowd is dead silent, waiting for Jaehwan to do the kick off.

 

There’s only five minutes left on the timer—everyone on the field is on edge, Woojin can practically _feel_ the tension in the air and it’s suffocating.

 

The floodlights feel hot against his back, there’s sweat pouring down his face as he leans forward with his hands on his knees, looking between his opponents and his teammates.

 

Jaehwan knows how to keep his composure in times like this—it’s what makes him a good team captain and striker. To his left on the opposite end of the field, he catches Jinyoung, whose position is the left wing while Woojin’s is the right.

 

The junior looks just as nervous as Woojin does. He knows because he keeps his head low and grinds his cleats into the grass like he always does when he’s nervous. At least he’s composed, Woojin thinks, because he himself feels like vomiting.

 

The referee blows his whistle and Jaehwan passes the ball back to Jinyoung, who kicks it back to their defender so that they can break into a sprint.

 

It all happens so fast, Woojin doesn’t quite know what’s going on. All that’s on his mind is that they have to _win_ no matter what _._

 

The ball is at Woojin’s feet a few times, and apparently, he makes a few good passes because Jaehwan is able to score them a goal with two minutes still left on the clock.

 

Then, the opposing team kicks-off.

 

They almost score a goal when in control of the ball, but their goalie catches the ball and punts it towards Jaehwan, who takes off with it onto the other half of the field. Once he’s met with a defender, the striker passes it to Jinyoung again who then passes it back once he’s overwhelmed with opponents.

 

It’s some time before Woojin has the ball, and when he looks up, he sees his opening—a clear shot into the goal. And without even thinking, he automatically swings his leg back, driven solely by his natural instincts to _win_. But before he can kick it in, an opposing defender appears out of nowhere and slams right into his side, sending Woojin toppling to the ground with his ears ringing.

 

The referee blows his whistle, and in the midst of Woojin’s oncoming headache, it’s deafening.

 

“FOUL!!” He yells and shows the opposing defender a yellow card.

 

“I—IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” The boy tries to explain.

 

“Everyone’s anxious, kid, doesn’t mean you should take it out on other players,” The referee responds, making a gesture towards Woojin. “Number 6 gets a free kick.”

 

Jaehwan jogs over and helps him off the ground, whispering, “You okay, man?”

 

“Yeah,” Woojin nods, but it makes his head spin. He _really_ feels like throwing up now, not just because of his possible concussion, but because everyone in the stadium is staring at him. Waiting for him. _Counting on him to get this ball into the net._

 

“No pressure, Woojin, but we really need to you to make this,” Jaehwan tells him quietly, “There’s ten seconds left on the clock, and this can possibly secure a win for us.”

 

Woojin feels bile rising in his throat. _He’s never been too good under pressure._

 

Everyone gets into their previous positions before the referee asks him, “Are you ready, number 6?”

 

And Woojin replies, “Give me a second,” before holding his stomach and turning away from the goal.

 

He wants to win. He NEEDS to win. His life depends on it. Woojin can’t mess this up or it’s over for his team and everyone at his school who’s come to watch the game with their parents. Woojin feels the floor shake under him and he wonders how will he ever be able to show his face again in public if he lets everyone down and—

 

Suddenly, a disgusting sound rips through the air, and everyone in the stadium turn to find a short boy with an oboe in his mouth, balancing a baby doll on top his head.

 

“WOOOOOOOOOOOJJJJIIIIIIIIIN” The boy screams.

 

_It’s Jihoon._

 

Woojin stands up straight to look at him, easily spotting the other standing with the marching band and waving his stupid oboe in the air. “YOU GOT THIS, YOU IDIOT!!! JUST KICK THE FUCKING BALL IN AND WIN—”

 

At this, chuckles erupt around the stadium, and Woojin finds himself laughing too, along with the realization that he doesn’t really feel sick anymore.

 

His heart swells with warmth.

 

_He loves Jihoon so, so much it fills him with confidence and now, he feels invincible._

 

“OKAY, I WILL” He screams back.

 

When the referee blows his whistle and Woojin goes for the kick, he feels like he’s watching the ball in slow motion as it flies past defender after defender, brushes right past the goalies’ fingertips, and lands safely into the goal.

 

And Woojin can’t believe that he’s done it until the stadium erupts into cheers—the only thing reminding him that they’ve won being the hard slaps to his back from his teammates and Jihoon screaming at him the loudest from the bleachers.

 

The opposing team still does their kick-off, but they get nowhere with the ball and their victory of six to five is sealed.

 

Immediately after the referee blows his whistle, ending the game, Jihoon comes running down from the bleachers and Woojin is still So High on their victory, he’s practically on cloud 9.

 

Jihoon flies into his arms and Woojin squeezes the life out of him—he’s so Fucking Happy he wants to cry.

 

“YOU DID IT!!!” Jihoon screams.

 

“THANKS TO YOU,” Woojin yells back, holding Jihoon’s face in his hands and gazing at him; drinking in the twinkle in his big, dark eyes and the smile on his pretty, red lips. _He loves Jihoon so much, he loves Jihoon so, so, sooo much he can’t take it._ “It was all you”

 

What happens next, surprises even Woojin. Because in one second, he’s staring at Jihoon, cherishing the life out of him, and in the next, he’s kissing him. Right on the mouth.

 

It doesn’t even dawn on him that he’s kissed Jihoon until he draws away and sees the look of absolute Shock and Horror on the other’s face.

 

And Woojin’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach.

 

“Wha—” Jihoon breathes out, blinking at him and pulling away. “Woojin you… ?”

 

Woojin has never felt immense regret like this.

 

The look on Jihoon’s face sends Woojin’s world falling apart, lighting on fire, and crumbling down on him until he can’t find it in himself to breathe anymore.

 

Woojin can’t hear anything but the sound of buzzing in his ears as he tries to explain himself, but it’s hard when there’s this a horrible sting in his throat. His stomach twists and heart feels like its breaking the longer Jihoon stares at him like Woojin’s committed a crime. “J-Jihoon, I— I didn’t mean—I—”

 

“Y-You didn’t—what?” Jihoon asks, touching his mouth.

 

He thinks that it looks like Jihoon wants to erase what he’s done, and Woojin feels like his lungs are collapsing.

 

He doesn’t get to hear what Jihoon has to say next—or if he has anything to say at all—because his team picks him up and carries him away on their shoulders.

 

But for a second, Woojin manages to turn around to look at Jihoon one last time, and finds his best friend glassy eyed and terrified, just before he runs off.

 

Woojin scrambles away from the crowd to throw up on the side of the field.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the game, their team has a pizza party to celebrate their hard-earned victory, but Woojin can’t seem to enjoy himself. So, he sits on a chair in the corner, reflecting on every facial expression Jihoon made after he kissed him until it’s time to go home.

 

He hitches a ride with Jaehwan since he has a driver’s license and a car, but when his friend asks for his home address, Woojin tells him to drop him off at a different house instead.

 

When he arrives at Daehwi’s front door, Woojin frantically knocks until he hears his cousin’s voice yell, “Babe, can you get it?” and a deep, accented voice— _Guanlin’s voice_ —call back, “Sure.”

 

Woojin’s heart sinks again because he knows that Daehwi hates it when he visits, most especially when Guanlin is over. But he doesn’t turn around to leave because he’s feeling anxious and broken on the inside and he needs someone to talk to.

 

Guanlin opens the door, and Woojin sees that the taller’s face is decorated with hearts and Daehwi’s name painted across his forehead in pink face mask. “Woojin-hyung? What’s the matter?” He asks, eyebrows screwing together in worry.

 

Soon, Daehwi pops into view wearing a face mask too, but it’s properly applied unlike Guanlin’s. He stares at the other in shock.

 

For a second, Woojin thinks that he’s going to get kicked out. But he probably looks so fucking pitiful, it prompts Daehwi to pull the door open wider and coo, “What happened, Woojin? You look horrible.”

 

It’s only once he’s in the safety of Daehwi’s bedroom does he finally let himself explode.

 

“I’M SO FUCKING STUPID, DAEHWI!!” He screams and thrashes around on his cousin’s bed, _“I FUCKED UP, I FUCKED UP, I FUCKED UP, I FUCKED UP—”_

 

“What did you do?” Daehwi asks, sitting down on the bed next to him and patting him on the back, willing the elder to still.

 

“I KISSED HIM, DAEHWI. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE.”

 

“Y-You kissed Jihoon? When??”

 

“AFTER THE SOCCER MATCH”

 

“What did he say??”

 

“HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING—HE SAID NOTHING, DAEHWI,” Woojin practically wails, turning to the other with tears brimming in his eyes.

 

He visibly sees Daehwi’s heart shatter as he looks at him, and he quickly goes to stroke the back of his head, sympathetically breathing out a soft, _“Woojin…”_

 

“HE LOOKED AT ME LIKE HE WAS HORRIFIED— _DISGUSTED_ —DAEHWI, I RUINED EVERYTHING. I RUINED THE ONE THING, THE ONE FRIENDSHIP THAT I CHERISHED THE MOST IN THIS WORLD, AND IT’S ALL MY FAULT—”

 

Woojin decides that he can’t take it anymore; the throbbing in his throat becomes unbearable and his eyes sting so badly, he finally begins to cry.

 

He doesn’t even hear that Guanlin comes back into the room, holding a cup of tea for him until it’s in his hands. He doesn’t even feel Daehwi holding him until he’s crying on his shoulder because he Fucked Up So Bad, he can’t think about anything else.

 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Daehwi,” Woojin whimpers out after a few long minutes of just crying. “I love him so much—I love Jihoon more than anything in the world.”

 

But before Daehwi can reply, Guanlin stammers out a shocked, “W-Woojin-hyung? The person you love is Jihoon-hyung??”

 

“I didn’t tell you?” Daehwi asks as he continues to pat Woojin on the head.

 

“NO??” Guanlin replies, actually looking and sounding offended, “You only said that Woojin-hyung had a crush on someone, but you never told me WHO.”

 

“Well, it’s Jihoon-hyung, babe,” Daehwi tells him quietly.

 

The tall boy turns to Woojin and says, “Hyung, Jihoon-hyung is my friend. The band always practices in the gym bleachers when the basketball practice is in session, so I talk to him all the time during breaks. He helped me out when I first transferred here.”

 

Woojin sniffles, thinking that Jihoon is an angel and he just ruined both of their lives with his dumb lack of self control. He replies weakly, “R-Really?”

 

Guanlin nods.

 

“Not to be rude, Guanlin, but what does this have to do with anyth—”

 

_“Jihoon-hyung loves you, hyung.”_

 

It’s quiet in the room for a good two minutes, Woojin actually thinks that no one is breathing because he can’t hear anything. There’s no movement, no outside sound, nothing. Just the pounding of his heart in his ears and Guanlin’s words repeating in his brain over and over again.

 

_Jihoon… what?_

 

The first person to speak is Daehwi, and he repeats, effectively breaking Woojin out of his trance, “Jihoon-hyung… is in love with Woojin?”

 

“Yeah,” Guanlin breathes, nodding too. “Says he’s been in love with him since middle school, but Woojin-hyung never took any of his hints so he gave up. I told him that Woojin-hyung had a crush on someone, and even though Jihoon-hyung kept smiling about it, he still looked really sad... I felt bad, but please understand, I had to tell him the truth.”

 

“Well… Fuck. This is one big mess, isn’t it?” Daehwi takes a deep breath and turns to Woojin, who’s still sitting motionless on his bed; shell-shocked and gazing up at Guanlin _._ “What are you still doing here, hyung?” He asks, shoving his cousin off his mattress, “You heard the guy, go kiss Jihoon again.”

 

Woojin’s autopilot takes over and suddenly, he’s running five blocks down the road to his house where he bursts in through the front doors and flies up the stairs.

 

When he gets to his bedroom, he’s ready to call Jihoon to jump across to his balcony to him, but he finds that he doesn’t need to because Jihoon is already there with Peach at his side.

 

He’s feeling both excited and nervous, so fumbles with the lock to his sliding door for a bit before he tears it open.

 

But Woojin’s heart breaks upon seeing Jihoon—Jihoon who thought he was in love with another person—staring miserably at the empty space in front of him with his knees pulled up to his chest and resting his chin on his arms.

 

“Jihoon I—” He breathes. But unfortunately, Woojin doesn’t get to finish that thought.

 

In one swift movement, Peach is suddenly hurled straight into Woojin’s solar plexus and he doubles over in pain, falling to his knees.

 

“DO YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE? I KNOW YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE ME LIKE THAT,” Jihoon screams, voice cracking with tears streaming down his face.

 

Woojin dodges the next thing that comes flying at him, which happens to be the whole plastic carrier that they use to carry Peach around, “JIHOON, NO IT’S NOT LIKE THAT—I DIDN’T MEAN—” Woojin tries to explain.

 

“YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT??” Jihoon laughs all broken and sarcastic, “TO KISS ME? IN FRONT OF ALL THOSE PEOPLE? IS THAT WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY—WHAT YOU MEANT TO SAY AT THE GAME?”

 

“JIHOON, I DIDN’T KNOW YOU HAD FEELINGS FOR ME—”

 

“PLAYING STUPID NOW, YOU DICK?” Jihoon spits, throwing Peach’s diapers at Woojin one by one.

 

At this point, he just lets each item bounce off his chest.

 

“You couldn’t have just kept ignoring it?” Jihoon whimpers, as his throws begin to weaken. He eventually runs out of things to throw, so he just hangs his head and brings his hands up to his eyes. “Like you have been for the past five years now? I-I already feel like shit as is, I didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to ruin things between the two of us.”

 

Woojin feels his heart crumble to pieces yet again. And he walks up to Jihoon, trying to push his hand away from where it’s covering his face, “Jihoon, no, you don’t understand,” Woojin quietly says, “I-I really didn’t know you were in love with me.”

 

Jihoon snorts, “Liar. I wasn’t even subtle, I literally said I loved you Freshman year of high school.”

 

“You did??”

 

Jihoon gives him a look that makes Woojin feel horrible.

 

“No, look, Jihoon. I really didn’t know,” Woojin explains, trying to sound as genuine as he can, “I love you too. I really do. Except, I only figured it out a few months ago, but I didn’t do anything because I didn’t know if you liked me back like _that_. And just like you, I didn’t want to say anything that’d potentially ruin our friendship…”

 

They let that hang in the air for a bit—for a while—before Jihoon finally looks up at him again with wet eyes and a runny nose.

 

Woojin tries to smile at him, but it wobbles because he feels like crying for some reason.

 

Jihoon snorts out a really juicy sounding laugh. “God, you really are a fucking dumbass.”

 

Woojin starts laughing too, and he wipes a few stray tears from his eyes, mentioning, “Daehwi told me that dumbass was your type.”

 

“I suppose it is,” Jihoon replies.

 

They stand in front of each other for a few minutes, just breathing the same air and reveling in the fact that they’re both just Dumb Idiots who are in love.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Woojin suddenly asks. “For real this time?”

 

And he finds that he doesn’t even need to ask because Jihoon jumps forward immediately, cupping his face in his hands and planting his lips against Woojin’s in a soft, eager kiss.

 

Woojin feels his heart leap up into his throat because Jihoon’s lips are everything he’s hoped and dreamed of—and tastes so sweet and distinctly like Jihoon, he feels like melting.

 

Woojin isn’t too sure what to do or how to kiss, and he finds out Jihoon doesn’t really know how either because soon, their make out session turns sloppy and full of saliva… and neither of them are breathing properly with their noses smushed up together like they currently are.

 

Woojin still kisses back, though. _As hard as he can_. Resting his hands on Jihoon’s waist and pulling him as close as he possibly can. It’s messy and embarrassing. But it still feels So Right, he figures that they have the rest of their lives to sort out all the kinks (pun intended), so he just continues to devour the other to his heart’s content. For now.

 

It’s a few minutes later when Jihoon suddenly punches Woojin in the stomach, forcing him to kneel over in agony.

 

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR??” Woojin chokes up, falling to the floor and clutching his abdomen.

 

“YOU WERE SLIDING YOUR HAND UP MY SHIRT—” Jihoon reprimands him.

 

“AND??”

 

“NOT. IN. FRONT. OF. THE. BABY.”

 

Woojin stares at Jihoon incredulously, before turning to look at Peach on the ground and back to Jihoon’s smug, flushed, post-make out expression. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? IT’S A DOLL.”

 

“We can continue this on Monday after we return her,” Jihoon replies haughtily before picking Peach up and laying down on Woojin’s bed like he owns it.

 

And even though Woojin should be mad, he’s bursting with happiness instead.

 

“Come, come, now, no need to change out of your uniform,” Jihoon pats the space next to him on his mattress.

 

When Woojin walks over, Jihoon scans him over before closing his eyes with a grin.

 

“I guess now that we’re dating, I can finally tell you that you look really hot in that uniform without breaking any bro-codes,” He says, before snuggling into Woojin’s blankets.

 

Woojin can’t help the smile on his face, more because Jihoon just admitted they were dating rather than the fact that he looks good in his soccer uniform— _but that last part still does wonders to his ego._

 

“I’ll be sure to wear out on our future dates,” Woojin says as he climbs into bed.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

Even though they’ve said it about a dozen times now, it still doesn’t fully hit Woojin that they’re a thing until he’s laying with Jihoon for the rest of the night, talking about each other, and before Woojin dozes off to sleep, Jihoon gives him a small peck to his lips, murmuring, “I love you.”

 

Woojin doesn’t think his heart is going to be able to handle this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Neither of them cries when they return Peach on Monday, handing their teacher their scrapbook filled with 30 days’ worth of fake baby content.

 

But they do cry when they’re called into the office and receive a bill of $50 each when their teacher finds out that they cracked their baby’s skull beyond repair.

 

“You thought you could cover it up with glitter glue and a snapback?” Their teacher asks, and Woojin and Jihoon take turns shoving the fault onto each other.

 

Unfortunately, they fail the assignment too. And now they’re required to retake the course next semester because they need to pass in order to graduate.

 

“I call naming the baby,” Woojin spits out when they leave the office hand in hand.

 

“What’s wrong with Peach? I was thinking we could name our next baby Peach the Second.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?” Jihoon laughs.

 

“Because I hate peaches.”

 

“Then… why did you agree to Peach the first time?”

 

“You forced me to,” Woojin says, “That, and because I know that you love peaches.”

 

“God… you _are_ in love with me.”

 

“Yeah, I am.”

 

“Cute, because I love you too,” Jihoon hums.

 

And it’s then that Woojin figures he’s the luckiest guy in the world, because he’s in love with his best friend, and his best friend loves him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I was never a band kid but I had a ton of friends in high school who were LMAO  
> they always joked around that oboes sounded like singing ducks and that when u played them, u looked constipated.  
> for visual/auditory aid, watch THIS: https://youtu.be/QNBsgfh4UMY?t=5m32s  
> lmao FUCK OBOES!!!
> 
> ANYWAY!!!! I LOVE U CHWIP FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART!! Thank u for being my friend and thank u for giving me a reason to write this 2park that probably would have just rotted away in my wips *A*  
> IT WAS REALLY, REALLY FUN TO WRITE AND I ACTUALLY WISH THAT I COULD HAVE MADE IT LONGER :’DD LMAO I HOPE U ENJOYED IT EVEN THO IM A NOOBIE AUTHOR IN COMPARISON TO WHATS ALREADY IN THE 2PARK TAG KJAKDJASD U OWN MY WHOLEASS HEART AND I DON’T DESERVE UR KINDNESS!!!!! ;u; <3 <3 ITS SO HARD TO KEEP TRYING TO ONE-UP U EVERYTIME U DO SOMETHING NICE BECAUSE I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO SAY THANK U ENOUGH OR EXPRESS MY GRATITUDE IN A WAY THAT’LL MEASURE UP TO WHAT U’VE DONE FOR ME ;A; <33  
> OOF I LOVE U SO MUCH HOLY SHIT  
> GIVE CHWIP LOVE ON TWITTER SHES THE 2PARK QUEEN: @chwip <33
> 
> AND LASTLY, thank u all for reading this!!! it was really exciting to write ;u; I sincerely hope I did well and I’d also really like to hear ur thoughts! *U* <3
> 
> -coinseller  
> (twt @pocar1sweet / cc @coppercoin)


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